


Chosen

by Medie



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: AU, Canon Divergent, Gen, What if?, trope bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1723091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the Council *had* Chosen Delenn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chosen

**Author's Note:**

> written for the au: royalty / aristocracy / feudal prompt in my Trope Bingo

Among humans, her title would be that of a queen. Among the Minbari, such terms have fallen out of favor, but would be accurate nonetheless.

Delenn might, in fact, prefer the term. Chosen One is no less pretentious for the truth of the appellation, and does not rest easily on the shoulders. Such titles are not supposed to be worn easily, she is aware of this, but still...

She does not wear it well, the ghosts of her predecessors keeping pace with her as she walks the halls of her palace, attended at every moment of every day. She performs her job admirably, the Council is in uproar half the time, but usually united in service, and the castes happy enough with her leadership. 

She has served them well, but she is not happy. Not at peace. There are storm clouds on the horizon and that is why she is content despite her discontent.

When the Council chose her as Dukhat's successor, she did not feel as though it were the life to which she were called. She did not believe that it was the path that she should take, but now the stones beneath her feet grow familiar. Perhaps in a life past, she walked here at Valen's side, fought the Shadows with him and laid the groundwork for what was to come.

Perhaps, she has been Chosen now to do the work she prepared then.

It's a comforting thought, though worrisome, and as much as she hopes, she also fears. If the time of prophesy is at hand and they are to face the Shadows again, the Warrior Caste must be persuaded, the Council may yet be broken and their allies are to be found and convinced to fight.

She walks to the window, watching the sunlight crest over the crystal city, sending colour and light dancing in all directions.

"It is so beautiful here," she says, her murmur loud in the empty room. So little of her time is her own these days, so many requests and so much help needed, that she guards these few moments almost jealously.

Somewhere above her, the Grey Council waits in the ship she will not make residence of. Valen had never intended for the Council to be so distant from the people and she will not allow them to persuade her otherwise. 

She cannot serve people that she cannot see. She cannot lead them when they cannot see her. 

Turning from the window, she lets the smile slip from her features as the sound of voices reaches her from the hall.

The Anla'shok come to see her this day. She isn't certain of what the Anla'shok Na wishes to speak, but she can surmise. So little of this seems surprise to her and less every day. She does not yet think the title she bears sits well upon her, but she can conceive of a time in which it will.

She breathes out, then in, settling her spirit and preparing herself. The future will not attend to itself and she, above all Minbari, has been chosen to face it. 

"And so it begins."


End file.
